Donald Trump sat back in his overstuffed recliner in his
penthouse apartment in Trump Tower. He was taking a day of rest after meeting
with the jackal press. The campaign had been grueling. He was victorious as he
knew would be. President of these United States. But he was tired. Very tired.
Soon he would preside over a happy and boisterous family
gathering as the Trump clan got together to celebrate Thanksgiving. His loving
wife Melania would be opposite him at the other end of the table with little
Baron. His beloved Daughter Ivanka would be there with her new son and her
other children. His sons would be there with their spouses and children. They
were devout family men much like himself. Her oddball daughter Tiffany would be
there as well. Even his ex-wife Ivana would be there to celebrate with her
children. Thankfully they got along and could be civil with each. More civil
than he could be with the conservative Republicans who hate him so. No matter.
Thanksgiving was a day to celebrate and give thanks for all his blessings. Most
of all the blessing that he could serve his country that had given so much to
him and his family.
Trump pushed back on the chair to raise his feet on the foot
rest that appeared at the bottom of the recliner. His thoughts were all over
the place. The campaign. The transition. But most of all his own mother. Mary Ann MacLeod. Of the Clan MacLeod.
She had been born in
Scotland on the Isle of Tong in the Year of Our Lord 1912. Her parents were
simple fisher folk but they were of all things immigrants to that far off isle.
You see they had been born in Highlands of Scotland. Or at least her father
Calum had been born in the bosom of the Clan MacLeod. He was forced to flee as
had many of his kind. The diaspora had led some to Canada, to America, to Paris
and to a small fishing village. Calum did not have the wanderlust that was
typical of his clan. But his daughter inherited it. That is why she went to New
York where she met a young virile German real estate developer. They fell in
love and married. She happily bore him five children. Each in turn were
apprised of the legacy of the Clan MacLeod.
You see they were immortal.
They lived on and on in the eternal battle. Taking heads of other immortals.
Because in the end there could be only one.
It was his guiding principle
in this grueling campaign. He is dispatched his rivals one by one. The weaselly
Walker. The somnolent Carson. The jolly but deadly fat pussy toad Christie. The
effete bubble boy Rubio. Even the dead eyed zombie Cruz. All had fallen. Not to
his blade. Only to his political acumen.
Then he had to face the
Gorgon. The Medusa. She who must not be named. It was a battle for the ages.
They grappled and spit and bit and fought on and on until ultimately he was victorious.
He was soon to move to the White House to implement his plans to make America
great again.
He had left the window to
the penthouse open to let in a little air. Suddenly the curtains billowed into
the room and a cold chill wind blew in. A figure was standing there. That was
impossible! He was in the Penthouse! No one could scale the building to climb
in through the terrace. Unless it was another immortal.
He stood up and reached for
the Claymore hanging on his wall. He held it before him in the guard position.
But the figure in the doorway did not seem to be armed. His head was down and
hidden under his pulled up collar.
“Who are you? Why are you
here? Do you challenge me?”
The figure looked up. He
seemed familiar. But this was impossible. It was Richard Nixon.
“I am not here to challenge
you MacLeod. I could not because I do not exist in your temporal world. I have
been sent to bring you a message. From Masters of the other side.”
“I don’t believe this. You
are a special effect. What Hollywood douche ginned up this nonsense?”
“I have simply come to warn
you MacLeod. You have emerged victorious. For the nonce. But it will not last.
Your enemies are legion and they will not submit. They will tear at you and
yours. Try to destroy you. Your business. Your Presidency. You Legacy. Your
family. You must defeat them again and again. But remember one thing. Do not
hate them. Because if you hate them you will destroy yourself. Remember my
example. You have a chance to put things right.”
“Very funny. Who sent you?
Seriously? Zucker? Lorne Michaels? Spielberg? Thank you for the advice. But I
know what I have to do. I also know one thing. There can be only one!”
Donald Trump took the
Claymore and swung it at the ghostly apparition to cut off his head. But nothing
happened. Nixon just stood there and shook his still attached noggin with the severe five o'clock shadow.
“It will be as you wish. I
have done what the Powers have requested of me. I was where you are now. Fame
is fleeting. Power goes away. The only thing you have is the record of your deeds.
It has been so since the time of the great Achilles. Remember that MacLeod.
That is all you will have.”
Another gust of rushed in
from off Fifth Avenue and the Donald covered his eyes from the sting of the
wind. When he moved his arm Nixon was gone. Or the hologram of Nixon was gone.
Donald Trump was pensive.
Could it have actually been a spirit? Whatever it was it was clear that his security
was lacking. He hung the Claymore back behind his desk. He would not have to go
into combat tonight. He needed to get back to reality.
He would gather his family
and take them out to dinner. At his favorite restaurant the 21 Club. They will ditch
the press and just have the family. He would be soothed by the presence of
Melania and Ivanka. He could stare at their breasts. That always soothed him.
For there were always two.
8 comments:
OK, big guy. Wierd, but a good point. One can say it also undid the Kennedys.
I do like that "The Medusa. She who must not be named." thing.
Really says it.
You are going to raise the spirit of Titus with the tit talk.
You know Tiffany Trump is kind of the odd man out. I think she is cute, but you can see that she is clearly appears to be uncomfortable in this odd way. I wonder if Marla Maples will get protection because she is the mother of one of his children? Have you guys seen Marla Maples lately? Wow, she looks fan-fucking-tastic. I wonder if she is dating because she certainly isn't married. Okay, adding her to my 'hit' list. :D
I think it is interesting that she is in Trumps life as much as she is. He is a good father. That is obvious.
Tiffany does seem like the odd one out. I hope she has a lot of protection. And uses a lot of protection. I think she is a prime target. For terrorists. For Liberals. For Social Justice Warriors.
Wait. Those are all the same people.
Well you know what I mean.
I'm still good friends with my ex-wife. I will always love her deeply, especially after 26 years of being together. You can't go that long with highs and lows in a relationship and end up being 'okay'. She's also the mother of my daughter so she will always be in my life. My daughter is always trying to play matchmaker and get us within proximity of each other. It's cute, but it's also kind of sad. Seeing my adult child hurt, but in a way that she is masking because she's an adult who has seen her parents break up after so long. I think adult children who's parents divorce actually suffer more than children in certain instances. I think my kid is one of those children, but she knows life goes on. Kids are way more resilient at a younger age, except for when they hit 11, 12, 13 to about 16. If you get divorced around that time, you are going to have problems with them.
Anyway, my point is, is that she will always be in my life because of that connection. I hope she can handle Marla's hotness though. :D
Breasts are just to help men keep track of where the women are in the room.
Why Donald Trump wears his necktie so long is a mystery.
I'll just leave this here for you, Troop: http://thefederalist.com/2016/11/23/brooklyn-grocery-store-played-sweet-home-alabama-everyone-lost-minds/
Yeah, you have to copy and paste. I'm at work! :)
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